Heartbreak Hotel
by Now in Glorious Technicolor
Summary: Ray and Erica get stuck together in a motel room while chasing down a con out of New York. Lightly based on a promo that's floating around.


**Author's Note:** Please note that this was written after the third episode, so things have definitely changed a bit. Just a little idea that came from the promos of them in what appeared to be a motel room.

At 8:00 in the evening Ray Zancanelli was stuck at some dump of a motel on the side of the road. Dank, dirty and roach-infested with a mini-bar full of cheap booze — this place made the halfway house look like the Ritz-Carlton. He didn't even want to think about the disgusting bodily fluids on the bed he presently occupied. In attempt to keep his mind off of such troublesome thoughts the ex-cop flipped mindlessly through TV channels, most of which consisted of porn.

To make matters worse the company at present was less than desirable. Just as Ray had settled on _Bad Buxom Blonde Beauties with Big Booties 8_ the bathroom door clicked open and steam spilled into the room. A dark haired woman stood in the doorway toweling her hair off. Ray did his best to ignore her. Or at least _act_ like he was ignoring her. She was trouble and the less they interacted the better.

Erica Reed sauntered over by her bed, dressed only in shorts and a tank top. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be disregarding her Ray observed that this particular pair of shorts were cut very high…

A loud moan from one of the many 'Bad Beauties' drew their attention to the television. She watched, quietly, arching an eyebrow. It would appear that a pizza delivery man just arrived at the sorority house full of horny blonde college girls. And they were _really_ excited to see him, not 'cos of the pizza either. The corners of her mouth turned up into a smirk. A judgmental smirk. Ray clenched his jaw and grunted.

"You don't like me, do you?" Erica asked as she sat on the bed, head tilted to one side as she leaned back.

Ray acknowledged her with cold eyes that bore into her's. "Nope. I don't like you. And I don't want you here."

Erica shifted her gaze away, frowning into space. For a split second he felt a pang of guilt. But just for a fraction of a millisecond. When she lifted her head there was a faint smile. "That's not your decision though, is it?" It was such a deliberate response.

The bed squeaked as Ray jerked up. "What was that?"

"It's not your decision," she repeated steadily, voice calm and even. "It's Charlie's."

The nerve that this broad has! There were about a million responses that were buzzing in his bald head, most of which were exceedingly rude. "This is MY team! It was MY idea, I put this all together!" He roared, emphasizing each 'my' with a jab at his chest. "Charlie may have plucked your ass out of prison but without me you'd be rotting away in a cell without any hope of seeing your daughter."

Erica leaned forward, staring into his face. "Then why am I still here, Ray? If you don't like me or want me, why am I here?" The hushed tone of her voice was surprisingly genuine.

He paused, not entirely sure how to answer the question. Her reaction was kind of throwing him off. "You're here 'cos you're damn good at what you do… Even if you are a liability. And believe me, you are."

The convict in front of him smiled somewhat sadly. "All cons are a liability, just some more than others." Ray had nothing to say to this. It was the truth and the reason why Charlie had to be the one that's in charge. A con is a con in the eyes of the law. "But I'm not going to run. I'm not doing this for me; I'm doing this for my daughter's sake. Do you know what it's like to grow up without your mother?"

"I do," he muttered under his breath, fist balled up around the television remote so tight that his knuckles turned white. Suddenly he dropped the remote on the bed and forcefully shook his head. "But I'm sure as hell not going to talk about it."

She raised her hands in surrender, making a mental note that family was a touchy subject. Wasn't it always though? "Is there nothing else on that we can watch?" Erica gestured to the TV, where at the moment the pizza boy was in the middle of a 10 girl spanking train.

"About 30 other pornos and Fox News," He snorted. A grin crept across his face when she grimaced, particularly at the latter.

"Okay, fine, this is fine."

After a few minutes passed in relative silence Ray cautiously glanced at Erica. She appeared to be engrossed in the film now. Or maybe lost in thought, it was difficult to tell. Normally the ex-cop felt like he could read people well. It came with your typical street-smart package, knowing and understanding people. Not with this chick though. Half the time it felt like she was the one doing all the reading, which was unsettling. He hated it.

She shifted slightly and the jutting curve of the killer's hip caught Ray's attention. Years of training had no doubt left her body in good condition. It was impressive to say the least. _I should look away. _His eyes traveled down the length of her legs and back up. _I should really look away. _They continued their journey up to where her chest was rising and falling slowly with each breath. _Jesus Christ._

"Like what you see?"

Ray's head snapped up so quickly it could've given him whiplash. As a matter of fact, it might have. "What?"

"You picked this flick out; I'm assuming you must really like blondes." She replied nonchalantly.

Relief washed over him. "Nah, not any more than any other women. I'm an equal opportunities sort of guy." He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling.

She rolled her eyes. "Good to know. I seriously doubt most of them are really blondes anyway. Looks like a bunch of cheap dye jobs."

They were quiet again.

"By the way, I saw you staring at my legs."

_Goddammit! _


End file.
